Like Father, Like Son
by Monny287
Summary: After a near-heart attack experience, Logan and Quinn find out their son is very much Logan's child. Fluffy one-shot.


Disclaimer: I own nothing

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

**A/N: Something about the song "The Chicks Dig It" reminded me of Logan, and this idea popped into my head. Enjoy! Be warned, it does change POV about halfway through.**

"Jamie, I don't think we're supposed to do this," Sarah Johnson worried her bottom lip nervously. At five years old, she was quite aware of what was allowed and what wasn't, and unlike her friend, Jamie Reese, she preferred to spend more time playing than in her room in time-out.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine," Jamie cocked a half-grin and dragged a two-by-four over to a small shed in his backyard. "This is gonna be so cool."

"Have you done this before?"

"Uh…sure, loads of times," Jamie hid the tell-tale face that told he was lying behind the piece of wood as he propped it up against the wall of the shed. "Piece of cake." He bit his lip as he positioned it just right.

"Are you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure," he said, going to the front of the shed and loosening the latch. His bike, a two-wheeler he'd just learned how to ride the previous week, sat near the front, propped up on the kickstand, begging him to try what he had in mind. Jamie smiled, kicked the small piece of metal out from underneath it, and boldly rolled it out to where Sarah stood, horrified. He propped it up near the two-by-four, and turned back to her.

"Come on," he said, going for the back door to the house. "I have one more thing to grab."

"A helmet?"

"Not exactly," Jamie stuck his head inside the house, making sure no one was in the kitchen, the room the door opened on to. He snuck inside and grabbed Sarah's hand, dragging her inside with him. He made his way past the living room quietly, where his mother and father sat, one reading a newspaper and the other writing down scientific formulas on a yellow legal pad.

"Jamie—"

"Shhh!" Jamie hastily pressed a finger to his lips, and tugged his friend up the stairs and down the hall, where a linen closet stood. He opened the door and surveyed the contents, thinking. Then, standing on tip-toe, he removed a large red sheet from the top of a pile and tucked it under the arm that wasn't holding onto his friend.

"A sheet?"

"I need one more thing," Jamie ignored her and scrambling into his parents room. His father kept a cache of belts in his bottom drawer, leftover from his more active directing days. Trying to open the drawer slowly as not to have the wood squeak, he reached in an pulled out the thickest one his hand could find. _Perfect,_ he thought, smiling.

"Jamie, I don't thi—"

"All right, I'm ready. Get ready to see the coolest thing ever!" Jamie practically ran out the door, to a shout from both parents not to pound on the stairs, and to be careful.

Jamie threw the sheet haphazardly around his shoulders, holding it in place with his teeth while he fastened the belt loosely around his neck. He tucked the sheet around the belt, as to hold it by itself, and he was delighted to find his make-shift cape was exactly how he wanted it to be.

"Okay, sit here," he took Sarah by the shoulders and sat her down on the grass about ten feet away from the shed. "And don't move. I don't want to hit you."

"Okay," Sarah sat with little resistance, crossing her legs and worrying her lip again.

"Wish me luck!" Jamie yelled over his shoulder as he ran towards his bicycle.

"Good luck!" she replied on cue. The devilish smile returned to Jamie's face.

"Okay, now watch this!" he said, backing the bike away from the shed nearly twenty feet. Taking a deep breath, he swung one leg over the seat, and started to pedal.

The ground was a blur beneath his feet, his backyard swirls of green, blue, brown, and red. His cape swung majestically out behind him, though some of it kept getting caught in his spokes. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sarah cover her eyes in fright, and he smiled. This was going to be so _awesome. _In an instant, the grass under the bike changed to wood, and the wood to shingles. The shingles soon turned into thin air, and that's when everything went wrong.

"Jamie!" he heard the shrill cry of his friend as the bike flew rapidly away from him and hit the roof of the shed before bouncing down onto the opposite side of the way he was going. _This wasn't supposed to happen!_ he thought, a thread of panic slicing through the adrenaline he'd gotten from biking successfully up a two-by-four.

The ground came up faster than he expected it to, and was harder than he'd imagined it would be. His right arm, which had been flailing wildly with his left, suddenly was pinned underneath him, and the resulting _crunch_ made him nauseas, and sent an ice pick of pain through his entire right side. _Uh-oh._ He was really going to get it now.

"Jamie, are you okay?" Sarah came up on his left and hugged him tight. She was crying hysterically, more scared for her friend than Jamie was for himself. Jamie hadn't cried a tear yet; he was in shock, and had actually yet to realize he'd actually landed on the ground. "You want me to get your Mommy and Daddy?"

"Umm….no," Jamie said, pushing one leg underneath him and wobbling to his feet, cradling his hurting arm in his good one. "I think I'm okay."

"Really?"

"Are you kidding? I'm fine," the fall obviously hadn't harmed his bravado any, but as he let his arm hang loosely by his side, he gasped at the pain, and he blinked rapidly to stem the tears that had welled up in his eyes.

"You're not okay! You're crying!" Sarah exclaimed in an accusatory tone. Before Jamie could stop her, she ran inside, screaming at the top of her lungs for his parents. Sighing, he sat down, which only increased the pain in his arm.

A cry of _"He did what?!"_ and ten seconds brought his parents running to the backyard, to find their son crumpled in a heap, holding his arm in his lap. His skin was an ugly gray color by this time, and he saw all the blood in his parents faces drain.

"Jamie, are you okay?" Daddy knelt down by him, looking worried. He looked puzzled as to why he was wearing a red sheet on his back, but that could be explained later, Jamie knew. Mommy stood a little ways away, comforting a sobbing Sarah.

"My arm hurts," he said, looking down at it.

"Let me see," Daddy said, taking Jamie's arm into his hands and moving over his carefully. A sharp cry of pain from the light contact made his lips grow thin, and his brow furrow. "Jamie, I think your arm's broken."

"Broken?"

"The bone inside of it has snapped into two pieces. We're going to have to go to the hospital."

"Okay," he stayed perfectly still as Daddy scooped him up and held him tight against his chest. He didn't like the hospital, as all of his previous visits had been to remove things he'd swallowed, both by accident and on dares, but if it would make his arm stop hurting, he was all for it. As they walked by Mommy, Daddy told her what was wrong, and she let out a sob and laid a hand on Jamie's shoulder.

A few moments later, the little family, including Sarah, were bundled into the car and very nearly speeding to the local hospital. Mommy and Daddy didn't say anything as they drove, and the silence in the car was unnerving. Sarah had stopped crying, though her face was still red and puffy. She reached over across the backseat and took Jamie's left hand in her right, giving him a reassuring smile. He winked back at her and flashed his half-smile.

"Alright, everybody out!" Daddy announced as they turned rather sharply into the emergency room parking area of the local hospital. Jamie quickly unbuckled himself with his good arm, but trying to open the door, which was to his right, was impossible. Frustrated, he waited for Daddy to open it for him. A small scowl stayed on his lips as Daddy picked him up and carried him inside. He wasn't a baby, and hated to be treated like one.

"Daddy, put me down!" Jamie squirmed against the arms that enclosed him.

"Don't move around, buddy," was the reply. "You don't want to make that break any worse."

The doctor leaning against the wall in the waiting room looked up from the chart he was looking at with amusement as the family walked in. Jamie recognized him; he was the doctor that was always on call when he had to be brought to the emergency room.

"Hello, Jamie!" he said brightly, a smile tugging at his lips. Jamie was an infamous celebrity on the pediatrics ward. After all, what other five year old boy could swallow three Matchbox cars whole? And have no internal injuries? "What was on the menu today?"

"Actually, we think he broke his arm," Mommy said, holding tightly to Sarah's hand.

"Really?" the doctor's face suddenly went from amusement to seriousness. "Let's have a look, shall we?"

He led them into the nearest examination room, which was a stark white and cold. The doctor took Jamie from his father's arms and set him down carefully on the paper-covered table.

"Which arm hurts, Jamie?" he asked, taking the right one when Jamie indicated the pain was in that one. He felt around for a few moments, apologizing when the small boy let out yelps of pain. "Well, we'll have to have an X-ray, but from the way it's bent, and the amount of pain he's feeling, I'm pretty sure it _is_ broken. How'd you break your arm, Jamie-boy?"

"Ummm," Jamie looked nervously towards his parents. He was in for it if he admitted what he'd done, but he'd be in even more trouble if he lied about it now and they found out the truth later. "I tried to fly over the shed. On my bike."

"On your bike?" the doctor's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Is the bike okay? Does he need a doctor too?"

"No," Jamie said, shaking his head. "He's got better bones than me."

"Oh, okay," the doctor ruffled his hair affectionately. "Well, we're going to take a special picture of your arm that lets us look at the bone, okay? Then, if it's broken, we'll have to put a cast on it. And you'll get to pick the color."

"Okay!"

"Alright. Your mommy and daddy can't come in the room with us to get the picture taken, it's not good for them. Do you want them to wait outside?"

"No, I'm okay,"

"It's right down the hall," the doctor lifted Jamie off the table and took his hand, leading him out of the room.

_That boy is going to be the death of me,_ Logan thought as he absently flipped through a sports magazine lying on the table next to him. Quinn sat a few feet away, playing make-believe with Sarah, who had calmed down considerably.

"What in the world would possess him to jump the shed on his bike?" he muttered to himself. "Where would he even get the idea?" Jamie didn't watch much TV, save for _Sesame Street._ And they weren't teaching things like that on there, as far as he knew.

"Someone at school, maybe?" Quinn offered, taking the plastic tea cup Sarah held out to her. "Why, thank you, madam!"

"Maybe," he tapped his fingers on the wooden arm of his chair. Chase and Zoey's son never game them this much trouble. Though, that could be because he was two weeks old, and could do little more than cry and drool.

"And he's back!" the doctor cried gleefully, opening the door to reveal a newly-cast Jamie. "Good as new!"

"Look!" Jamie held out his arm, which was now covered in a neon orange cast. "I got to pick the color."

"So, it was broken?" Quinn asked, standing up. She hugged Jamie to her, waiting for the answer.

"Yes, in two places, actually. He took quite the fall."

"And he _won't_ be doing it again, will he?" Quinn looked sternly down at her son, who flushed and looked away, shaking his head.

"He'll have to wear that cast for six to eight weeks. I've given him some pain medication, but if he has any pain, a mild pain reliever should do just fine."

"Alright. Thank you, doctor," Logan said.

"No problem," the doctor smiled sweetly at the children before pulling two lollipops from the pocket of his jacket and handing them to Jamie and Sarah. They thanked him and dashed back to the bucket of toys in the corner.

The drive home was uneventful, though Logan and Quinn were successfully drained thanks to the day's events. Jamie and Sarah were unfazed, singing nursery rhymes in the backseat as he navigated through evening traffic. They arrived home to Sarah's parents waiting patiently on the front porch, having read the note Quinn remembered to leave on the front door. 

"Hey, Jamie," Logan pulled his son back by the shoulder as Sarah happily ran to her parents, and Quinn went to greet them. "Why did you jump the shed on your bike?"

"Because—" his answer was cut off as Sarah ran back up to them.

"I've got to go home, Jamie. I'll see you later," she smiled at him before giving him a shy kiss on the cheek. "Hope your arm feels better. Bye!"

"Bye, Sarah!" he waved to her, a huge grin plastered on his face. Logan cocked an eyebrow before leading Jamie inside.

"So, that reason you jumped the shed?" he prompted, as Jamie climbed up onto one of the bar stools that lined the small island in the kitchen. Quinn leaned over the other side, eager to hear the answer as well.

"Oh, yeah," Jamie said, his smile growing wider. "That's easy. Because the chicks dig it, Daddy." He hopped off the bar stool and ran upstairs, totally unaware that he'd totally floored his parents. A few seconds later, Quinn burst out laughing.

"Oh, and what's so funny?" Logan teased, going over and wrapping his arms around her waist.

"He is very much your child," she managed to breath out, still laughing.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, come on. 'The chicks dig it'? That is _so_ you in high school,"

"I wasn't that bad!"

"Oh, yes you were. And I have at least four friends that would back me up,"

"Oh, yeah?" Logan smiled devilishly. "Well, you can't call them if I do _this!"_ Without warning, he swung her up on his shoulder and carted her out of the room. Jamie smiled upstairs as he heard his parents acting like complete children. He shook his head. And they thought _he_ was the little one.


End file.
